


What They Don't Know

by tetsarou



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Shiro (Voltron), Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 18:02:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15954632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tetsarou/pseuds/tetsarou
Summary: Shiro's always been expected to be more than what he was born with, but a certain outgoing omega helps him understand how important it is to take care of himself.





	What They Don't Know

Metal connect again and again, the ring rough as the smooth surface finally gave and was seared through, jagged edges catching and tearing at skin as he shoved away.

Shiro bit through it, pressing forward again to catch at the slim opening. He had to push more, to bring up more anger in him if he wanted to get anywhere. There was no way he was going to let the bot get away. He had to press forward, to give everything that was expected of him. Because what if the team needed him, what if they got hurt? His body needed to react faster than his head.

His arm came down again, reaching for that spot, keying in on the movements. It was so open, so easy to reach if only he had the ability, the natural senses for this, the strength. There was nothing but pushing, reaching for more, even now. His muscles strained to tear through and force his way into the weak space, unnatural, trying too hard.

It screamed in his ears.

Shiro jerked back as the bot made a last effort towards him, stumbling into his space before he shoved it towards the floor and collapsed into a heap. He breathed in, finally, the bot deconstructed into air and felt the gasp burn all the way down through his lungs. A tremble ran down his spine. Everything hurt, _so bad_ , he barely felt like moving, _could_ barely move. His hands shook, arms trembling as he lowered them. 

Shiro couldn't steady himself enough, but he needed to get the pain under control, bite back the throb of burning skin, the flare of heat shooting along his arm. He could feel the sticky warmth on his hand, but didn’t dare look down. There was no way he could. Shiro had to keep his head up, to not show the shudder that went through him. He had to push a little more. He needed to.

That's what people wanted to see—a prime alpha in all his glory.

It made his stomach flip.

A dissatisfied chirp vibrated up his body then, sending pebbles along his skin. He's glad the omega couldn't see it, see the way it so easily affect him. Lance had such a lovely voice, and he really missed hearing the soft tones.

It's been too long since the last he heard it.

A smile crept up into his eyes as Lance walked up, stride with purpose and head tilting down to catch Shiro's look more head on. 

Shiro blinked, catching the slight goosebumps along Lance's bare arms as he stood there before looking away.

_What was that from?_

But he didn’t react, tried not to show a smile at all the possibilities in his head. _Maybe Lance did like seeing this…_

He shook it off immediately seeing the downturn of Lance's mouth and harsh eyes. Instantly, a thousand dreads filled his head. A heavy beat settled in his heart. The anxiety was coming back, biting the back of his throat, adrenaline flowing through every fiber of his body in an instant.

Maybe Lance noticed how he was struggling. Alphas weren't supposed to struggle with this.

He stepped back when Lance pushed up incredibly close, unfazed by the frazzled man before him, pushing aside the fact that Shiro was still twitching from the rush, or rather a newer rush of panic, and willing to shove closer at his detrimental state. Lance had no sense of safety and ignored the look in Shiro’s eyes, jumping at how Lance snatched up his arm to look. Everything melted away. Shiro couldn’t keep up the act, not around Lance, not with how impossibly bright he smiled and lived life with everything he had. 

He melted like butter into the touch. So simple on his elbow, but Shiro was weak for the affection.

Shiro watched at how Lance's eyes softened in a moment, but the frown gew harder the longer he examined the cut. 

Shiro swallowed down all the anxieties in his throat. With how heightened Lance's senses were at the moment, he must smell terrible with all the distress.

The omega glowered at him suddenly, eyes snapping up to meet his and scowl harsh as he released Shiro's arm. He yanked back, but watched Lance, how he stood still, regarding the rest of Shiro. 

He felt like a shaking leaf. Those eyes were too intense at times, the azure cutting through every wall he managed to build up in an instant. 

“Shiro, you're an idiot.” The tone slapped him across the face. It was hard, but also gentle in a way. Like how his mother used to call Shiro right before the punishment of a lifetime.

“You need to stop throwing yourself out there all willy nilly,” Lance continued, pulling at the hem of his shirt, exposing some of the marks and freckles there on his shoulder.

Shiro couldn't keep from following the action. He felt so distracted, following any movement from fear but also interest. It sparked so many mixed emotions in him. This was unhealthy.

Suddenly that hand left his chest and met out in the air halfway between them, fingers open and gentle.

“C'mon,” he murmured. “Let's take you to the medical ward.”

Shiro felt the creep of a smile across his mouth as he took the offering, the metal of his fingers slipping so easily with Lance's. It felt so natural, wonderful as Lance gripped tight, his hold firm and assertive, but protective. It was probably his heat talking though. Shiro could feel it, how feverish Lance's hand was even against his prosthetic. 

For an awful moment, he felt a bubble in his throat form at Lance leading him, as if this was for an entirely different reason. He crushed it fast though. Shiro shouldn't be thinking like that. Not about Lance, who's been the one to make him the most comfortable here, yet makes him the most unnerved. 

Omegas always know what's happening in their pride. Shiro has held his breath one too many times when talking with Lance, waiting for the moment he mentions something, anything, that would have him begging for the omega to keep quiet around the others.

Like now. He couldn't help it, Lance was way too close. Shiro could feel his body temperature, too hot, too much for him to be walking around right now. He needed to get some rest--Shiro could take care of himself.

“Lance,” Shiro started.

“Hush,” Lance huffed, turning his attention to Shiro. “I don't want to hear you complaining. You're going to have to deal being seen with me until we get you patched up.”

Shiro blinked at that. As if he wanted Lance to leave, but the omega was looking feverish. But where was this attitude coming from? Why would Shiro not want to be seen with him?

“You need to take better care of yourself,” Lance went on. “Why don't you use that smart head of yours? All this… stupid rushing in and brute forcing is going to seriously hurt you one day.”

“I thought you liked that though,” Shiro smirked, “given how you handle some situations, Sharpshooter, rushing in like you own the place.”

Lance didn't even look at him, instead pushed forward—actually pulled, dragging Shiro along further into the medical bay. Shiro smiled to himself and went along with it, slipping out of Lance's grasp a moment to grab at his hand firmly. He never could get over Lance's long, gentle fingers fitting into his.

“That's different,” Lance said.

“How is it any different,” Shiro asked, smile now fully showing. He couldn't hide much from Lance, despite how ge tried.

“I actually think before jumping,” Lance pulled from Shiro's grasp, crossing his arms over his chest. “You just do it if anyone makes any kind of distress.”

“You don't stop to think why we're distressed,” he added.

Shiro watched him a moment longer, following the soft curl of his eyelashes and rouge color that spread over his face. It looked like his heat was spiking again, given the small beads of sweat along his temples. But Shiro couldn't help feel distracted by this little conversation.

“So you do things blindly, too, then,” Shiro asked.

“No, I think about it beforehand.” Lance wasn't looking at him now, playing into his own little obvious lie.

“Seems like you don't if you get into trouble enough for me to go after you,” Shiro remarked.

Lance spun around to glare at Shiro, but his mouth was curling into a small smile. That made Shiro so warm, warm enough he wanted to purr and laugh.

“Shut up and sit down,” Lance barked, but it was so playful, smile fully forming in his mouth and eyes. “I'm going to go find Coran, my eyes won't focus.”

Lance rummaged a moment longer in drawers as Shiro sat on the examine table. He hadn't noticed when they first arrived, but mostly because Lance made everything so much warmer when he entered the room. Shiro always hated the medical bay. All of them have been here too often.

Lance had him apply pressure to the scratch with gauze before leaving, wandering out as if he were lost in his head, floating away. Shiro wasn't sure he would come back, with how unsteady he looked. Lance might need to go back to his nest and try to work through some of his heat again. It was self inflicted, to keep his pattern healthy, but it would still be days before Lance was back in commission. It made Shiro's chest twinge. He missed seeing the omega at breakfast and sometimes on his late night snack runs. Shiro always say him then, not being able to sleep himself much. They talked so often and he missed that.

Shiro let his shoulders drop a few moments after Lance left. It still hurt to hold his shoulders straight like before after the prosthetic was in place. It put so much pressure on his chest and shoulder blade at times. Most of the time he wanted to curl up and sleep, but he had to save face, despite the pain it caused.

He nursed his back as best he could with a damaged arm, mind wandering in circles and sometimes floating away with Lance. Maybe he wouldn't come back. He has been gone a while after all, and Shiro began rummaging through drawers looking for supplies before hearing familiar voices.

Coran was boustrous in his announcement, chattering happily as he moved about the room. It made Shiro smile easily knowing the Altean was there, too. But his eyes kept drifting over to Lance who actually made the effort to walk back, despite his feverish look. He must be having pains again, and Shiro could barely catch a crisp smell, something warm and that brushed against his skin.

Lance had immediately claimed one of the more plush seats of the room, forming the blanket he brought around himself, and pulled up his legs and all into the plush bed to nest. Lance fixated himself there, closing his eyes against the lights but peeking them open every so often to watch.

It had Shiro clutching the edge of the table, leaning back into it as Coran prepped his arm. But at some point, Shiro caught himself staring, because Lance had curled up and nestled his face partially into the blanket, mouth parted and face relaxed as he napped. He hasn't seen Lance sleep like this for a while—curling up anywhere and immediately passing out.

Shiro smiled to himself, but then felt his gut clench with anticipation as Coran readied his supplies. He hated this part, knew all of this should be easy for him, but when Coran stitched up his arm, he bit at his mouth and cheek. It shouldn't hurt, not for an alpha, but Shiro bit down whines and whimpers the whole time.

He swallowed it all down, the lies, and blinked it back to peer up. Shiro grew quiet instantly, meeting with glossy blue eyes. Lance was watching him, gaze very much taking in everything, innocently, and Shiro couldn't help shying away. Lance was reading Shiro's distress so easily and it sent a chill up his spine.

The rest he shoved down mercilessly, showing nothing in his face as Coran finished, applying a light paste to his suture to get it to heal together over the next hour.

Shiro made sure Lance couldn't put any pieces together, gathering himself immediately after and thanking Coran, and walked out despite his wobbly legs. He didn't look toward Lance, instead faining it as the heat scent growing heavier, leaving it unspoken but obvious between them. But Shiro loved that smell. It didn't send thousands of little prickles along his skin like how he heard most alphas had experienced, but instead he was unbelievably warm and comforting, lulling him into a sleepy state that made him want to nest and burrow himself.

It's been so long since he did that. Shiro never really let any of that show, not since his last years at the Garrison, right when he was starting to become more comfortable with himself. Nothing could change what he was, but he also was finally okay with not having the the right endotype. Yet, everyone kept pushing him, expecting things from him, wanting a side he wasn't as comfortable with.

The lies stayed, well into his imprisonment, too. He had to be unforgiving, like everyone needed him to be, how he had to be to live.

Shiro laid in his bed, breathing in heavy after his shower. He hated how heavy the alpha pheromones were at times, clinging to his skin and making his temperature rise. His skin sometimes itched from where the spray touched him.

His hair was still damp, but he didn't care about the bedhead he would have at dinner, he needed time to wrap his head up in something he's always admired.

_Lance._

Shiro breathed out, wondering how the blue paladin found it so easy to live with his endotype. He never complained, except the times he was cycling, curled up and looking miserable in his blankets, glare set on anyone who bothered him in any way.

But… he was so open about it. Lance always was down to talk about himself, but not in a conceited way. He wanted people to know as much as they could, to break a lot of the stereotypes around his presentation. Shiro always found him talking with Allura. She was extremely fascinated with how Lance's cycles worked, and how he interacted with the others, to the point it got embarrassing and she touched his stomach one day, asking if he was carrying yet since he was off his cycle. She got that terribly wrong.

Shiro smiled at the memory, at how Allura shamelessly asked questions. She wanted to know everything, and of course, when she learned how important alphas were, she immediately beelined in his direction. Shiro was a prime alpha after all, the best place for information. 

But he hated it, and gnawed at his lips and picked his nails with every word she said. Lance noticed, all too easily, and mentioned how private alphas were and maybe it wasn't the best for Allura to push so much.

Because he might snap, might get aggressive and push back.

Shiro sighed and further pushed into his bedding, breathing in the airy scents of laundry and soap. He couldn't help the purr rising in his chest, light but deep. It's been a while since he let his voice be anything other than unbearable deep and rough. And it always lulled him to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, don't hesitate to leave a comment or message me on my tumblr!!


End file.
